


Of Werewolves and Super-Solders

by JuSt_AnOth3r_N3rd



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: F/M, Gen, Howard Stark's Good Parenting, M/M, Maria Stark's Good Parenting, Multi, Non-human Tony Stark, Tony Stark Is Not Human, Werewolf Peter Parker, Werewolf Tony Stark, Werewolf Turning, Werewolves, Why aren't those tags yet?
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-03-06
Updated: 2020-03-15
Packaged: 2021-02-28 18:15:14
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 1,987
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23041594
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/JuSt_AnOth3r_N3rd/pseuds/JuSt_AnOth3r_N3rd
Summary: The Avengers have just moved in.How will that fare for a Billionaire with a furry secret?
Relationships: Howard Stark/Maria Stark, James "Bucky" Barnes/Steve Rogers, Pepper Potts & James "Rhodey" Rhodes & Tony Stark, Pepper Potts/Tony Stark
Comments: 7
Kudos: 57





	1. A little intro

**Author's Note:**

  * Inspired by [Of Werewolves and Super-Soldiers](https://archiveofourown.org/works/11254347) by [triple_a_batteries](https://archiveofourown.org/users/triple_a_batteries/pseuds/triple_a_batteries). 



> Here's a couple of my work notes to make sense of my 'verse. Some will be in the beginning, others will be in the work itself;
> 
> \- Set a little after avengers Assemble  
> \- Representation of tony’s thought process  
> \- Tony’s Bday moved up to 1974 to work with MCU timeline (29th May)  
> \- Werewolf tony stark  
> \- High political power (I.e. BAMF Tony Stark :D )  
> \- American college = British university - therefore calling it university as I am British  
> \- As in my other fic, Borders = paranormal-known humans, other paranormals know if they know as they have a charm and/or carry a certain scent

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> As said on the tin

Tony POV 

Ok, so I may not be entirely human. Well, what do you expect when you have shifter genes in your blood that runs over ten generations on both sides of the family? Or more specifically, WolfBlood?

Throughout my childhood, I learnt the history and of wolf-shifters - or more commonly known as Werewolves - from my Mother. How it was a genetic anomaly and not a witches curse - they do exist, although very rare and only 2 are born each year regardless that whole bloodlines carry the gene - those whole societies (or packs) still exist. From my mother, I also learnt how to tell another’s emotions by just their smell

From my Dad, I learnt control. How to act more human, how to resist the moon’s pull and - of course later - ruts and heats and how the full moon can trigger a heat or a rut, especially if your mate is nearby. How wolf-shifters develop earlier than their human counterparts even though pregnancies are the same length of time. That is why I learnt how to build a circuit board at four and a fully working engine at six - although that may be the geniusness in the family too. I also learnt to not fully trust Obadiah Stane that I supposedly lovingly call Uncle Obie as he always carries the smells of lies and deceit.

From both parents, I learnt how to control the company as I knew from a young age I would have to overtake it. But not in my - so far - young life did I expect my parents to be ripped away from me. Or should I say murder? Yes, I knew as soon as I got to the ‘crash’-site that it was a murder, the smell of fresh-winter snow in rocky mountains told me that HYDRA’s Winter Soldier was the cause of their murder and not the ‘drunk-driving’ that was supposedly to have happened. They were supposed to have come to see me at MIT before taking me back home for Christmas break.

Wolf-shifters have the ability to have a low-level telepathic connection with the rest of the pack family. It aids the pack when having to hunt or when being split up long distances. So when I felt that connection _scream,_ and then, so suddenly severe? I knew. I knew that they were killed. I roared with anguish before taking off towards the site 50 miles away - after, of course, putting on the appropriate running gear for the winter weather. The Christmas of 1991 will ruin Christmases forever. 

\--

You see, just before my fourteenth (14th) birthday, I exceeded way past high school level education and my parents and I agreed that it would be better to go to University and try and challenge myself. Granted, I knew I would probably the youngest there to ever attend, but it was never too early to let a young wolf-shifter to learn to fend or their-selves by being partially away from home. The pack-family knew that I could always move out of the provided dorm-room that was provided and move into one of the den-homes in the area that we brought. 

I moved into my dorm room a day early so I could both, grab my semester’s timetable and mark my territory get used to the area that would be my home for the next four years. So when I heard a small argument outside the dorm room at eight in the morning and the majority of the Rhodes Clan - a whole family of known Borders - came through the doorway, I knew that I would be good friends with them. That is when I identified my new roommate as James Rhodes. As soon as the large clan-family came through the doorway and closed the door to the rest of the building, I did the formal shifter-to-Border greeting - a dip of the head followed by a flash of my shifter eyes while standing. They all soon followed by a dip of their own heads before showing their Border-Clan charms - An oval wooden charm on a leather chain with a triskelion within two circles.

\--

After that, the next 20 years or so came and went fast. My parents died on the 21st of December, on-route to MIT. I graduated summa-cum-laud with two Doctorates and 5 Masters and James Rhodes - who Lovingly nicknamed Rhodey - second with one Doctorate and one Masters, with the Family Butler and his wife - Edwin and Ana Jarvis, who practically raised me alongside my parents - coming to attend as well as the entire Rhodes clan, and my Godmother, pseudo-Aunt and Director of SHIELD, Margret ‘Peggy’ Carter, in attendance. 

After that, we all celebrated Rhodey’s last day before military school while I took a more prominent role within Stark Industries in the R&D department and security consultant at SHIELD, protecting soldiers, spies and civilians alike, while keeping my parents’ promise and keeping an eye for ‘Uncle Obie’ (makes me want to gag at that). At 21, I became the youngest CEO of a Fortune 500 company, creating a better future through new tech. Couple months later, I met Vignina Potts, storming into my office with a can of Pepper spray declaring there was a mistake in the accounting books, already having gone to her direct superior but being turned down. I made her my PA and gave her the nickname Pepper.

Thereafter, time flew by quickly - until 2008.

You know the rest. I was captured by the Terrorist Group known as the Ten Rings which was organised by my loving Uncle Obie for three months. Apparently, I didn’t keep a tight enough leash (ha) on him and was selling MY weapons under the table, killing our own soldiers. Oh, how I wanted to rip his throat out with my teeth. I defeated him though. Then Director Uncle Nicky came reminding me about the Avengers Initiative and warning me that he is gonna send a mole undercover in Stark Industries. I reluctantly agreed, also asking if he can check for any other moles within the company and any of my father’s files still left in SHIELD’s volts. 

In 2010, I was dying of palladium poisoning, then I wasn’t. I discovered - or rediscovered - a new element. I tried to call it Badassium, only to have found it to actually be synthesized Vibranium. Oh, well, you win some, you lose some.

Gave Rhodey a suit. 

Crashed my own Stark Expo and then saved it. Blasted Justin Hammer’s tech. Turns out he hired Ivan Vanko, known Border criminal and held a grudge against the Starks specifically. This time I did rip his throat out, not with my teeth - though I was very tempted to - but with my shifted claws. Saved a kid from the drones - I think I saw a Border charm, but I’m not fully sure - oh well.

Not even a year later, I got a notification from SHIELD that the Great Captain America was found - I never pulled the funding. Now the funding has seized, it has been redirected to aid all SI foundations and charities. Oh, apparently he was a border - I did not do the traditional greeting, he doesn’t deserve it.

Fast forward another year and there is an alien invasion. Met a pair of Alien God Brothers. I think the Alien God Brothers noticed I wasn’t human, but only time will tell. Flew a nuke through a portal, got yelled at by both Pepper and Rhodey, followed by a bone-crushing hug. Got shawarma, then invited the Avengers team to the tower to rest and another invitation to actually live there - I have 10 free floors, what am I meant to do with them?

Had my first full moon with them in the tower. That went splendidly - not. One thing about werewolves on full moons, we are incredibly horny, leading to being really tired in the morning.

\--

Now, back to the story :)


	2. Tired Tony

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> After a full moon...
> 
> I.e. what inspired this whole fic

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As said in the last chapter, Shifters tend to have their heats/ruts on full moons, bringing about their instincts a lot more, leading to a partial or full shift.
> 
> Hence the myth that they only turn on full moons.

_Bloody full moons and ruts, always ruining when I am actually able to sleep. Why does Pepper need to be in Tokyo again? Wolves need pack…_ ~~_like what the Avengers are becoming_ ~~

"Anyone want coffee?" Bruce calls from the kitchen. "I accidentally made an extra- oh. Good morning, Tony."

"Mine," Tony mutters, picking the mug out of Bruce's hand as he makes his way through the kitchen, Clint close on his trail holding a bowl of cereal with a spoon in his mouth. "Nat, get your boyfriend. He's bothering me," Tony calls, sounding more exhausted than annoyed. Clint makes a noise of protest around the spoon, effectively dropping it onto the floor with a small clink.

“Come on, man!” Clint’s voice carries from the kitchen into the sitting room where Steve and Natasha sit, quietly discussing the movies they would watch later that night. They pause as Tony stumbles lazily into the room, Clint following close behind him after retrieving the spoon from the ground. “How can you not like chocolate? It’s like the holy grail of food!”

“It’s not that I don’t like chocolate, I’m just allergic. Now shut up and leave me with my coffee.” Tony grumbles, dropping next to Steve with a sigh. “The last time I ate it, I got really sick and couldn’t sleep for a week. I also can’t eat grapes, avocado, and macadamia nuts. Be warned.”

Clint rolls his eyes and shakes his head, digging into the bowl of cereal he is holding. “You’re weird, you know that Tony? You’re allergic to everything dogs are. We’ll have to start feeding you dog food before long.” He jokes around a mouthful of cereal.

“I can still kick you out, you know. You’ve only been living here for a week.” Tony groans as he sets his coffee mug down, having drank it all in lieu of listening to Clint take a jab at his health.

He looks really hungover, Steve thinks. Only thing is, Steve knows he slept last night. He actually picked Tony up and placed him in his bed. Why is he so out of sorts? Tony normally spends his time hidden away in his workshop, and from what Steve can tell, he didn’t normally sleep at night. Steve had been living with Tony for almost a month and didn’t see him much unless there was some sort of benefit or he was passed out on the couch or floor, exhausted and overworked. Naturally, whenever he did see the man, Steve tried to give him something to eat or drink.

“Hey man, are you okay?” he hears Bruce mutter to Tony, who was, at that very moment, beginning to drift off to sleep on Steve’s shoulder. Natasha shoots him a look and gets up, grabbing Clint by the back of the shirt and pulling him out of the room.

“Shut up,” Tony mutters, sounding exhausted and somewhat sick, “I’m fine. Why do you guys baby me so much?”

"It's because we care, Tony." Bruce shakes his head at Tony's dishevelled state. "This is exactly why we bother to. You evidently don't care enough to get any sleep."

"Aw, come on Brucie. You're worried about little old me?" Tony leans unsteadily towards Bruce, supporting himself by gripping tightly to Steve’s bicep.

After witnessing all this in stunned silence, Steve decides Tony needs to go back to bed. “Alright, Mr Stark. You need to go back to sleep. Clearly you didn’t get enough hours in last night.”

“Noooooo...” Tony moans, stretching out the vowel until it trails off into a groan.

Steve rolls his eyes and stands up, dragging Tony and his death grip off the couch. “Come on, Mr Stark. Let’s get you back to bed.” Steve reaches down and slings his arm under the tired mechanic, lifting him up over his shoulder. Bruce watches amusedly from where he’s leaning on the back of the couch as Steve carries Tony out of the living room and heads toward the elevator to put Tony back to bed.

**Author's Note:**

> Yes English is my first language
> 
> No, it's not Beta'd
> 
> Judge me <3


End file.
